


Chakram

by yearofcomets



Category: Forged in Fire (TV) RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Time, M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-22 01:35:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22207333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yearofcomets/pseuds/yearofcomets
Summary: Lucy Lawless was hot, that was why he was getting hard watching Xena with Dave. That was it. Right?
Relationships: Jason Knight/David Baker
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	Chakram

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in early 2018 for my girlfriend after we watched the Bladesgiving marathon on a whim and got hooked on the show. I've got a soft spot for fancy bears okay.

Jason was a bit confused when he’s called back for the fourth season. He thought J was supposed to be done with everything by then. But he’s not complaining. Not even when Rashad greets him, not with a ‘Hello, good to see you again,’ but by shoving a pair of jeans into his hands.

“I’m not letting those slide this time,” Rashad says, frowning heavily at Jason’s legs.

“What?” Jason holds the new pair of jeans to the side and looks down at himself. It’s his usual light wash baggy jeans. Comfy enough for sitting in that damn chair for ten years. Not as comfy as the kilt, but it was cold out.

“Those _dad jeans._ ” Rashad motions at his legs, looking exasperated.

“What’s wrong with them?”

“You’re a handsome man. Just because you have children doesn’t mean you have to wear the worst jeans in existence on television. Show off a bit.”

“Show off?” Jason cocks his head, holding the new jeans in front of him. “So . . . dark wash?”

“And they should actually fit.” Rashad looks at his _dad jeans_ again and grimaces.

“Okay, okay man. You know best,” Jason says laughing. “I’ll give em a go.”

“And if they work, _keep them._ They were a gift to the show. They’re yours now.”

Jason isn’t convinced when he puts them on. They’re tight. Skin tight. He has to take extra time to tuck his dick right they’re so tight. He feels a little obscene, looks a little obscene. His dick is just _there_ like he’s trying to be Wil or something. But he has to admit, with his black hoodie he looks pretty decent. This could work.

He runs into Dave on his way to makeup and gets a lingering look.

“New jeans?” Dave asks, smirking. Jason scowls at him which only makes Dave’s smile grow.

“Rashad insisted.”

“They look good,” Dave says, cocking his head as he gives Jason another once over. It hits him weird, settles low and warm, makes him unsteady.

“Do you get to keep the clothes he makes you wear?” Jason asks, suddenly desperate to speed past that compliment.

“I’ve got a couple vests from him, yeah,” Dave says, a bit confused.

“Does he _make_ you keep them?”

Dave laughs, squeezing Jason’s shoulder. “He’s a smart man, take his advice.”

The touch clings to him for the rest of the day, getting mixed up with a particularly argumentative Dave. They toss barbs, bicker over blades, over what Jason chose to eat for lunch. Jason likes it, wants more of it. Dave is only too happy indulge him.

\-----------

“I finally watched the infamous chakram episode,” Jason says after Doug and Wil had left the bar. He’s not sure what he’s doing but it feels right. He wants to get a reaction out of Dave more than anything and it’s _strange._

Dave chokes on his beer. “Yeah?”

“You’re a form over function guy, aren’t ya?” Jason says and doesn’t that sound suggestive? Suggestive of what, he isn’t sure but he can tell Dave is thinking the same thing and oh, he’s neck deep in whatever the fuck this is.

“I make movie and TV props, what do you want from me?” Dave says, looking charmingly exasperated, blessedly sailing right over whatever Jason was implying.

“Xena the _Warrior Princess_ used a chakram. But it was functional, not over the top like Trenton’s.”

“Of course you’re a fucking Xena fan you goddamn nerd.”

“Hey, I’m not wrong!”

Dave gives it his best shot to prove Jason wrong but he’s no match for the stone cold facts. Jason declares as much and drags him back to his suite down the road and shoves him down into the only seating in the entire shitty hotel room. It’s a little loveseat, barely big enough for them both, but it’s close to the plug in and it’s decidedly not the bed. He focuses on booting up his laptop, ignoring the way Dave kicks off his boots and sets his feet up on the coffee table, getting settled in comfortable and easy. He tries not to watch Dave undo his tie and unbutton the top few buttons of his shirt, letting his shirt fall open to show off his chest hair and it feels both purposeful and uncaring, as if this was casual, familiar, while at the same time something not unlike a date. Jason squeezes in next to him, trying to force himself away from the idea that most men didn’t practically cuddle and watch Xena. And they were going to watch it on his laptop, they had to see it didn’t they? They elbow each other and juggle the laptop, laughing and arguing the entire time until Jason sighs, gives in and slings his arm over Dave’s shoulder, uses his longer torso to his advantage and lets Dave settle in against him under the crook of his arm. He balances the laptop on their knees, pulls up the episode of choice and hits play, already rambling his point, fingers drumming against Dave’s shoulder.

It feels cozy, his legs falling open a few minutes in, thigh pressed comfortably against Dave’s, as Dave lets his head rest against his shoulder so he can see the screen better. Jason forgets the purpose of this rewatch two episodes in, vaguely hard for no reason, a mumbled “another?” slipping out even as Dave hits next. Dave’s hand slips back from the trackpad and settles on Jason’s thigh, warm, casual, going straight to Jason’s cock and his head swims. Lucy Lawless was hot, that was all, Dave’s fingers rubbing along the inseam of his too-tight jeans is just fidgeting, is just there, is just driving him crazy. He’s long since gone from drumming his fingers to rubbing his thumb along Dave’s shoulder and he has no idea what is even happening. Dave turns his head just a moment, his mustache tickling Jason’s neck before warm breath ghosts across his skin and he has to bite down a soft noise. And just as soon as it happens, Dave is refocused on the show and Jason feels like he’s hallucinated it even as his cock throbs.

They’re about halfway through the episode when Dave’s hand slides a few meaningful centimeters higher, practically burning his skin through the denim. It spikes his heart rate, his breathing, and he’s gripping Dave’s shoulder for dear life. He has no idea if he’s imagining things, isn’t even sure what he’s imagining. Dave angles his head towards him again, this time his nose brushes against the curve of his neck, and Jason shivers, mouth opening without his say so.

“W-what . . .” His voice sounds foreign, strange. He can feel Dave smile against him, lips brushing softly against a particularly sensitive spot below his ear and his hips twitch, knocking the laptop into Dave’s lap. “Dave what are you -”

Dave closes the laptop, leaning away from Jason to set it on the floor, kicking his legs off the coffee table. The cold air of the room rushes in to highlight just where Dave was touching him and how much Jason misses the contact. The movement pulls his hand away from Dave’s shoulder to rest at the back of his neck, his fingers unconsciously rubbing at the buzzed hair, heart leaping when Dave lets out a soft sigh at the contact. He looks down as Dave returns his hand to his thigh, high up and suggestive, and Jason feels utterly adrift.

“Y-you’re . . . hitting on me . . .”

“Finally figured that one out?” Dave says, laughing softly even as he leans in to kiss at Jason’s neck. Jason swallows down a whine, confused as to why the contact has him wanting more not less.

“I’m not -” he starts to say, cutting himself off as Dave bites lightly at his skin.

“You sure?” Jason can feel Dave grinning again and it makes his hand curl around the back of Dave’s neck. Dave moans softly against his skin, and the feeling, the sound, travels straight to his cock.

“Jesus Christ, man, I don’t fucking . . .” Dave sucks gently at the spot behind his ear and Jason lets his head fall back against the couch, accidentally exposing more skin for Dave to touch, accidentally pressing him closer to Jason by the grip he has on his neck. Dave makes that noise again before running his tongue along the shell of Jason’s ear. “Oh god . . .I’m not . . .” He’s not gay, he’s never . . . but . . . Dave chuckles against him, hand brushing dangerously close to the edge of his half-hard cock to prove otherwise and he might as well see where this will go. “What- what would you do if I was gay?”

Dave makes a rough growling noise in the back of his throat, teeth scraping possessive against his neck, fingers digging bruises into Jason’s thigh. His lips brush Jason’s ear, his facial hair catching on Jason’s beard, the sensation ridiculous, foreign, and all the more exciting because of it.

“Been thinking about rubbing you off through those jeans of yours all day,” Dave says, hand sliding higher until he hits the taut pull of denim across his dick, pinky finger resting flush with his cock, rubbing soft and teasing. “Denim hugging your cock . . . I’d touch you through your jeans until you’re hard and desperate for me.” Dave pauses as if to let Jason object, to say something, anything, but Jason keeps quiet, face flushed. And when Dave tugs on his earlobe with his teeth his thigh twitches under Dave’s hand.

“Get between your thighs and go down on you,” Dave says and the image hits Jason so abruptly he cries out in the back of his throat. Dave on his knees, mouth around his cock, nose buried in pubic hair. It’s utterly filthy and - “Maybe get you to fuck my face,” Dave continues and Jason whimpers fully, loud and desperate, fingers digging into Dave’s scalp. “Get you to come down my throat.”

Jason knows his hips are moving incessantly under Dave’s hand, knows he’s a shaking mess. He can’t get his brain to work, can’t think, can’t breathe. He never even considered - and even as he thinks it he knows it’s utterly false, knows that for all the fuzz in his head right now, he knows that somewhere down the line he’s thought of this, thought of Dave, hell thought of Wil, thought of any number of men, like this in the dark corners of his brain. And all he wants now is to . . .

“And what would you want me to do?” he asks, voice so low he’s sure Dave hasn’t heard, words slurring together into a thick, aroused drawl.

Dave makes a pained noise against his neck, “I don’t expect you to do anything, not when you haven’t -”

“I - what if I wanted to return the favor? How - how would you want me to touch you?”

Dave growls, bites hard into Jason’s skin. “You’re going to fucking murder me, Knight,” he hisses, gripping Jason’s thigh so hard he knows he’s going to have bruises tomorrow and he thinks that might be one of the hottest thing he’s ever imagined. “Want you to touch me like you touch yourself, want to feel you figuring out how to touch another man for the first time, want to feel you adjusting your grip, your touch, with every noise I make, want to feel you eager to make me feel good, to make a man come for you.”

Jason sobs a little, turning his head to look at Dave for the first time since this started. Dave leans back, letting him look and Jason feels vividly like the move was a mistake. Dave is lightly flushed, blue eyes blown dark, mouth open slightly around whining breaths. His shirt is open at his chest, and Jason never thought he’d have a thing for that but his fingers twitch to touch the curls, to take his shirt off, to see more, feel more. He looks back up, hates the smirk on Dave’s face, and runs his fingers through the short cropped hair at the back of Dave’s head, on purpose this time, just to get him off balance. Dave’s eyes flutter shut, a soft moan slipping free and oh, he could do this. He could do this.

“You like it that you’re my first, don’t you man?” he asks and Dave’s eyes snap open. He grins, shifts against Jason until he’s facing him fully, other hand coming up to tug on his beard. It’s condescending in a way that is utterly unsurprising. “You’ve got a huge fucking ego,” Jason says, and he can’t help the smile that covers his face.

“What’re you going to do about it?” Dave asks, a challenge, a question, the make or break it moment and god, Jason might as well have his mid-life crisis right now.

“I’m going to fuck your face,” Jason says and as it leaves his mouth he feels like he’s been set on fire. “Fuck,” he breathes, grabbing a handful of Dave’s hair experimentally, drinking up the way Dave huffs out a moan, grinning, “yeah I’m going to fuck your face, Baker.”

Dave slides his hand over Jason’s cock and it’s like a blessing, a confirmation, something blissful and dirty and he buries his face in Dave’s neck, moaning wetly against him, shuddering at the touch. His hands grip Dave’s shirt for dear life, Dave fitting his arm between Jason and the couch, Jason shifts and there’s Dave cradling his head against him, overwhelmingly sweet, protective. Jason moans, teeth catching on Dave’s neck, beard probably rubbing him raw but Dave only moans softly, curls his fingers more firmly around Jason, jacking him off through his jeans. It’s light, barely there, teasing him more than anything, but he doesn’t care, could stay like this forever, rolling his hips pitifully against Dave’s hand. God, why hadn’t he done this sooner? The thought hits him sharply, like a slap to the face. He’s not going to just . . .

He tugs on Dave’s shirt, mumbles into his shoulder, “wanna see you.” It’s admitting something darker than being touched through his jeans. Something that frightens him and makes him hungrier, braver. Maybe foolish. Maybe not. Maybe he should be framing this differently. It’s dirty, sure, fucking someone he works with isn’t exactly kosher, but it isn’t dark, isn’t _bad._ Dave pulls them to their feet and the look in his eyes is a soft hunger, kindness filtering through the need and Jason can’t help but kiss him.

Dave makes a soft noise against his mouth, cradling Jason’s head with his hands, forcing him to slow down. It’s sweet, disgustingly so and Jason hates it, wants to push through it, wants to be rougher than this. And he realizes he’s scared, terrified even. Dave shushes him, teeth catching his lower lip, gently tugging at it, rubbing his tongue over the sting. Jason gets caught up in the feeling, lets Dave take over, realizes he’s trying to help Jason toe the line between foolishness and discovery. Dave slides his tongue into Jason’s mouth and he whines, sucking on his tongue as if by reflex, shuddering when Dave fucks his mouth. He’s pulling at Dave’s shirt, cheeks getting rubbed raw by Dave’s mustache. Jason isn’t a complete fucking virgin but there’s something weird about not being the only one with facial hair. The sensation makes it real, makes the entire thing so painfully real that he leans back with a gasp, swaying a bit.

“You okay?” Dave asks, thumb rubbing against Jason’s cheek.

“Need to see you,” Jason gasps, hands coming up to Dave’s shirt buttons. “I never . . . I . . .” He can’t seem to voice it. He manages to undo a button amidst his hemming and hawing and it’s like he can’t move now let alone speak. There’s something about the curls . . . even he doesn’t have chest hair like this. Dave chuckles, takes his hand in his and presses his fingers to his chest. Jason whimpers, flushed and embarrassed. He’s in his forties, it’s as if he’s never . . .

He hasn’t. That’s the point isn’t it? And this is Dave. _Dave_ of all people. He smiles sheepishly, looking back up at Dave. “This is . . . ridiculous.” Dave grins, unbuttoning his vest and shrugging out of it, letting Jason get his shirt off for him. Jason takes no time in getting both hands on his chest. He can’t wrap his head around why this is so hot, but the feel of Dave’s crazy amount of chest hair under his palms has him twitching in his jeans.

“You’re fucking gay as hell,” Dave breathes laughing, looking smug. Jason wishes he wasn’t fueling Dave’s already giant ego with this, but he can’t help himself. He’s hot, this is hot. David goddamned Baker is making him realize he’s into guys. Fuck it. He rubs his thumb over Dave’s left nipple and get a breathy moan for his trouble. And before he can think better of it he leans down to press his mouth against it, flicking his tongue over and over until it’s hard for him, until Dave is making a racket above him. Dave pulls him off with a hand in hair, looking worse for wear. Jason grins. Oh god, he could get used to this.

“On the bed,” Dave growls, shoving Jason down onto the mattress. It’s abrupt, rough, goes straight to Jason’s dick even as Dave’s eyes go wide with regret. “Fuck, I . . . you don’t need that right now.”

“Don’t need what?” Jason asks, fingering the edge of his hoodie, watching Dave clumsily pull his socks off, face red with embarrassment. Dave ignores the question until he’s upright again, hands hovering over his belt buckle.

“Me being . . .” Dave looks around the room, struggling with something. He screws up his face and starts working on undoing his belt. Jason feels vaguely like he should get undressed too but he has a feeling Dave would want to do the honors and he’s not going to deprive him of that. “I, when I,” he pauses shaking his head before looking up at Jason. “Most guys I fuck want . . . no, _expect_ certain things.”

Jason has a good idea of what that is. He might be new to men, but he’s not new to this. He smirks, palming himself, loving the way Dave’s eyes follow the movement, mouth parting. “Like what, Dave? What do they want?”

Dave narrows his eyes at Jason. “You know what, smartass,” he says, frowning dramatically as he unbuttons his fly. Jason suddenly feels unbearably warm, realizes that he can see how hard Dave is, cock outlined against his jeans. Maybe not as obscene as Jason looks in his jeans right about now but pretty close.

Dave grins at the way Jason is looking at him, curving his hand around his cock, showing off. It’s a good look, extremely good. Dave standing there, shirtless, palming himself through his jeans, looking down at Jason, absolutely smug. He’s a big guy, maybe not tall, but definitely husky, hairy. Jason is marveling at how absolutely gay this is, how fucking into this he is. Dave isn’t necessarily all that masculine, but he is definitely _male_.

“Tell me,” Jason whines, has to stop touching himself just so he doesn’t come.

“Tell you what?” Dave asks, sliding his hand into his jeans. Jason watches eagerly, willing Dave to take his cock out. Instead Dave merely touches himself through his briefs, the movement of his hand filthy underneath his jeans.

“What they want you to do,” Jason says, fisting his hands in the sheets to anchor himself.

Dave smirks, giving him a once over before looking down at himself, slowly taking his cock out. Jason lets out a shaky breath, the weight of what’s happening hitting him square in the chest and instead of terror, he just wants to lean into it. He welcomes it.

“Depends on the guy,” Dave drawls, thumbing a bead of precome and spreading it over the head of his cock. Jason whines, cock pressing painfully against his fly. “Most of them want me to slap them around a bit, bruise them, put them in their place.” Dave looks up to meet Jason’s heavy gaze, hand sliding lazily along his cock. “What do _you_ want me to do?” Dave asks, “Sweet or rough?”

Jason stares blankly at Dave. What does he want? He wants to touch, to taste, wants to fucking come, wants to make Dave come, wants it hard and messy and “Both.”

Dave grins, kneeling onto the bed, jeans clinging to his hips and straddles Jason, hand still wrapped around his dick, balancing himself with a hand on the headboard. Jason grabs his face, tugs him down into a bruising kiss, moaning against his mouth. He fumbles for a moment, reaches blindly for Dave’s dick, getting his hand around him and Dave practically keens, hips pressing forward, fucking into Jason’s fist. It feels strange, familiar yet not. Dave is thicker than him, not as long, and the noises Jason’ wringing out of Dave are making him smile into the kiss. Dave leans back, gasping, hips rolling incessantly into his fist. “You catch on fast, Knight.”

“Aren’t you gonna make good on your plan there Dave?” Jason asks, twisting his wrist and grinning when Dave cries out. Dave looks down at him, eyebrows knit even as he breathes hard and ragged.

“You're itchin’ for something aren't ya?” Dave asks, grabbing Jason's wrists and pulling them above his head. Jason swallows thickly, blinking up at Dave. “You're more like the twinks I fuck than you want to admit.”

“I'm not a twink,”Jason whines. He’s pretty sure he isn’t at least, but he also isn’t quite sure what a twink is either. They don’t have beards though, right?

“No, you're not,” Dave says, shifting to hold both of Jason’s wrists in one hand. He brings a hand down to run down Jason’s chest, over his stomach. “They aren't as soft here as you are,” Dave practically purrs, dipping his hand underneath Jason’s hoodie, his fingers tracing patterns over his skin. Jason feels his breath catch in his throat, watches as Dave pushes his hoodie up a bit to expose his stomach. He was comfortable getting Dave off. But this . . . being touched like this is something else.

“Keep your hands here,” Dave says, letting go of Jason’s wrists. Jason can do nothing but obey, grabbing the edge of the headboard to steady himself watching with wide eyes as Dave shucks out of the rest of his clothes before getting back on the bed. Dave shoves Jason’s hoodie up under his armpits, leaning down to kiss the curve of his stomach. Jason gasps, knuckles going white as he grips the bed, the rough drag of Dave’s beard against his skin contrasted with the sweet kisses has him overwhelmed, shaking.

“Please,” he whines, only getting Dave’s hands at his hips holding him down. Jason marvels at the way Dave’s hands cover a good portion of him. His hips never were that pronounced but this is something else. He can feel the blacksmith callouses on his thumbs, his fingers, rubbing calming against his hip bones. It’s too real, too sweet. And yet Dave is already sucking bruises on his stomach and it feels worshipful in a way that is utterly confusing. “What are? Dave you’re - I don’t _need_ this.” Dave looks up at him, mouth still moving over his skin, soft and warm and wet. He cocks an eyebrow, bites softly at him, worrying his skin between his teeth as if to say _no, you do need this._ And hell maybe he does. Maybe a fast fuck to get this out of his system is more than he can hope for. Dave is determined to make this stick.

“You want me to come back,” Jason says, gasping with the epiphany, arching against Dave’s mouth. He feels Dave grin against his skin, hands petting down his sides before he lifts off, moving to straddle Jason again, prying Jason’s hands off the headboard and pulling his hoodie off completely. Dave lets out a soft sigh of appreciation, runs his hands down Jason’s chest before resting them gently at his waist.

“I want more than just a one night stand,” Dave says. “I don’t mean you have to date me or whatever the fuck, just want you to not ignore this after tonight.”

“You just want to fuck me whenever you want,” Jason says and as he’s saying it he realizes that’s not such a bad thing, even if it’s scary to think about anything beyond tonight now that this has happened.

“Maybe,” Dave says, running his hand through Jason’s hair, messing it up with a smirk. “You deserve more than a shitty blowjob.”

“Don’t get,” Jason grimaces dramatically, “sweet on me.” Even as he says it, he’s hesitantly touching Dave’s back, tracing nervous patterns with his fingers that Dave leans into with a soft noise.

“I know you want it rough Jason, but come on,” Dave says leaning in to kiss him softly. “I _want_ to take care of you.”

“That’s fucking gay man,” Jason mumbles, dragging Dave in for another kiss, wrapping his legs around Dave’s hips to pull him closer, hissing when Dave’s cock rubs against his stomach. “Yeah, I think . . .” He trails off when Dave rolls his hips, rubbing his cock against Jason’s stomach on purpose, catching Jason’s earring in his teeth as he does it, pulling oh so gently. Jason cries out, hands scrabbling at Dave’s back, feeling Dave get hard again.

“I need what you said before, please, can you?”

“All you had to do was ask, sweetheart,” Dave says, petting his cheek and god Jason had never thought he’d be spoken to like that, especially in bed and it’s hot. It’s so weirdly hot that he’s pulling Dave into a filthy kiss, squirming underneath him, digging his fingernails into Dave’s skin so hard he knows he’s left some marks of his own. “You like that?” Dave asks when he pulls back for air. “Like me being sweet to ya?”

“I wouldn’t call that sweet,” Jason says, shuddering when Dave palms him through his jeans, “Call it being a smartass.”

“You like me talking down to you then?” Dave asks with a smirk, unbuttoning his fly.

“I hate it,” Jason whines, pressing his hips against Dave’s hand.

“But it’s hot?” Dave undoes his zipper and Jason feels like it takes about ten years. He watches wordlessly as Dave slides his hand against his cock through his boxer briefs, jacking him off. He cries out when Dave grabs him by the hair, tugging his gaze up to meet Dave’s face. “Tell me, boy.” Jason moans, hates how it goes straight to his cock, how Dave smiles as he feels Jason twitch against his hand.

“Yes, okay, fuck,” Jason swears, “fucking hate you man.”

“Mmhmm,” Dave hums, cupping his hand around Jason underneath his briefs, and the skin on skin contact has Jason arching, voicelessly moaning. “That’s it,” Dave murmurs, thumbing the head, teasing his cock until he starts leaking.

“Please,” Jason whines, grabbing at Dave’s hair, jerking his hips, trying to get more friction, more anything.

“Please what?” Dave asks, smirking.

“I - I -” Jason stutters, head hitting the headboard hard as Dave bends down to lick at his left nipple. “Fuck . . .” He presses Dave’s face harder against his chest unthinkingly, wants more of that sensation, gets a growl and a soft bite for his trouble that makes him flail pitifully.

“Tell me,” Dave says. He scrapes his teeth over Jason’s chest towards his shoulder. “Tell me what you want. You have to say it,” he says against his shoulder before kissing down to his bicep, digging his teeth hard into the muscle as he wraps his hand completely around Jason’s cock. It’s rough, and perfect and and and 

“Make me come. Want you to make me come,” Jason breathes, fucking into Dave’s fist, hissing at the sharp pain of Dave marking up his arm.

“How?” Dave asks, and Jason just wants to shake him.

“Bastard,” Jason says and of course, _of course_ Dave lets go of him completely, pries Jason’s hands off his head and holds his wrists against the headboard, straddles him so their cocks are rubbing against each other but it’s not _enough_.

“Tell me how you want me to make you come,” Dave says slow and firm and it’s hot in a way Jason can’t define.

“Like you said,” he says, wondering what it feels like, what it looks like to have Dave choking on his cock. “Suck me off.”

“That’s a good boy,” Dave purrs, sick smile on his face and Jason rips his hands out of Dave’s grasp, pushing him off of him even as his dick jumps at the condescension.

“Fucking _hate_ you man,” he says, flipping their positions, getting Dave up against the headboard. Dave looks utterly delighted, stays where he’s put, waits patiently as Jason struggles out of his jeans and boxer briefs. “Fucking piece of . . .” Jason trails off as he climbs back onto Dave’s lap and Dave holds him steady, sweetly, one hand cupping his nonexistent ass, the other curled around his hip. He feels . . . young. And he supposes he is relative to Dave, something he would never ever say to Dave’s face. He’s definitely inexperienced, new to this whole thing. And Dave is doing the last thing Jason expected _Dave_ to do, expected himself to want. He feels taken care of and it’s mind boggling.

Dave pets his side, makes a soft noise as Jason takes his cock in hand, showing off hesitantly for Dave, teasing precome from his slit, urging it to fall onto Dave’s stomach. It’s filthy the way it clings to his curls, marking him in a way. “Fuck,” Jason breathes, concentrating on teasing more out of himself, slow and eager. He feels Dave’s hands flex involuntarily as he watches, pulling slightly at Jason’s ass and that seems to speed things up nicely. His cock twitches and he presses another bead from the tip, moans as Dave catches it with his fingers before rubbing it into his own skin.

“Kinky bastard,” Dave growls, readjusting his grip on Jason’s ass, his fingers dangerously close to his asscrack, and wasn’t _that_ something new. “Are you going to leak all over me all night or are you going to come on my face?”

“Impatient?” Jason asks, lazily jacking himself off, eager to get himself dripping for Dave.

“Yes,” Dave says, grabbing Jason’s ass with both hands. “Fucking need you down my throat.”

“Christ,” Jason hisses, pressing the head of his cock to Dave’s stomach and rubbing it across his skin, trailing wetness across his hair. He feels Dave’s cock twitch against his ass and balls, the roll of his hips dragging the head slick against the sensitive skin and he suddenly doesn’t give a fuck about anything but that. “Yeah, just like that . . .” he moans, pressing back against Dave’s cock where its caught between them. “Yeah . . “

“You like that, Knight?” Dave asks, sounding a bit lost even as he fucks up against Jason.

“Yeah . . .” Jason’s grip on his cock loosens, his eyes sliding shut as he focuses on the sensation.

“Fuck if this wasn’t your first time I’d . . .” Dave trails off, and when Jason opens his eyes he’s sees Dave biting his lip, struggling with something.

“What? You’d what?”

“Fuck, I’d fucking . . . _god_ . . .” Dave pulls at Jason’s ass, spreading him open and the feeling has Jason keening. “God _damn_ you’re filthy.”

“M-more,” Jason gasps, “more, holy fuck, more.”

“More what? Do you even know what you’re fucking asking for?” Dave growls, kneading at Jason’s ass, cock dragging deliciously against the delicate skin behind his balls and it’s making him see stars.

“I don’t know . . . I . . .”

“You ever done something like this?”

“Like what?” Jason can barely think, his hand dropping from his cock to join the other and rest on Dave’s chest, holding himself up, giving him a better angle to rock back against Dave’s thrusts.

“Gotten pegged, eaten out, fingered, I don’t fucking know man,” Dave says, voice ragged as he presses bruises into Jason’s ass. “I don’t know your goddamn sexual history.”

“No . . . no . . .” Jason thinks he might want to do those things though.

“I’m not going to start that shit tonight, not when,” Dave moans raggedly as Jason shifts to reach behind him, takes a hold of Dave’s cock and slides it along his ass. “Holy fucking shit, _Jason.”_

“What?” Jason asks, the word coming out garbled as he smirks, eyes unfocused as he relishes the unfamiliar drag of a cock along his ass. It’s disgusting, foreign, terrifyingly hot. He can’t do anything but chase the feeling, suddenly starved for it.

“You know what, you fucking maniac,” Dave says, humor lacing his voice despite the ragged edges.

“Want you to fuck me,” Jason breathes, keeping Dave’s cock pressed to his ass with the palm of his hand, rubbing back against him, moaning when the head of his cock slips between his ass cheeks and catches deliciously on his hole.

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” Dave says, fingernails digging into skin in a stark contrast to his words.

“I’m not gonna break,” Jason whines but all he gets for the comment is Dave laughing at him, shaking Jason with the intensity of it. “What?”

“You goddamn _would_ break. I’m not gonna fuck you the first time you’re with a man, _especially_ if a woman hasn’t even fucked that skinny ass of yours.” Dave slaps his ass to emphasize his point. “You’re a fucking horny bastard, aren’t ya?” Jason just scowls at him, taking his hand back from Dave’s cock as if in retaliation, although he already knows it’s stupid to push the issue. “We can work up to it if you’re really hung up on it, but there’s other ways to fuck.”

“Work up to it, huh?” Jason drawls, reaching up to capture Dave in a filthy kiss. “I’d like that.”

“You’re gonna kill me, Knight,” Dave says, tugging him back by his hair. “So can I suck you off or am I going to be in a constant state of suspense on that one?”

“How do you want me?” Jason asks, throwing his arms over Dave’s shoulders.

“I think I’m the one supposed to ask that question,” Dave replies. “On my knees? You on your back? Fuck I could lay down and you could fuck my face that way if you wanted to get real rough with it.”

“Knees,” Jason says. “Want you on your fucking knees, Baker.”

“I’m an old man,” Dave whines, already shifting Jason so he can get out from underneath him.

“Not that old,” Jason says, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, mouth going dry as Dave gets on the floor. Dave smirks up at him, spreading Jason’s thighs apart, running his hands down his thighs. He leans in, breathes over the head of his cock and chuckles when Jason curses. “You’re evil, man.”

“Mmm, want me to make it up to you?” Dave asks, cupping his balls and tugging lightly making Jason whimper.

“Fuckin’ better,” Jason says, all words stopping short as Dave runs his tongue over the head of his cock, dipping into his slit before kissing his way down the underside. He mouths at the base, soft noises slipping free and Jason realizes Dave is hot for this, he likes to suck cock. He cradles Dave’s head, urging him up and back, shivering when Dave relents, lets Jason tug him where he wants him before he takes Jason into his mouth gently, teasing. He meets Jason’s gaze and hums happily, slowly working his way down the shaft until Jason hits the back of his throat. A smirk and suddenly Dave does something and Jason is sliding down his throat until Dave’s nose is buried in his pubic hair. He gags, holds still, eyes welling up with tears, and then swallows. “You have nothing to fucking prove man, what’re you --” Dave pulls off so achingly slow, lips making an obscene pop, spit connecting the tip of Jason’s dick to his bottom lip. He runs his hand through his hair, brushing it back into place with a grin before going back down, bobbing his head and swallowing around Jason, going hard, fast, eager.

Jason can barely breathe for the feeling, the image. He holds onto Dave’s hair for dear life, thighs shaking, trying to keep himself from fucking Dave’s mouth. He doesn’t need to, Dave is already practically doing it himself. He looks down, looks closer and yes, Dave is touching himself, cock in hand, jerking himself off as he takes Jason into his throat again. “Christ,” Jason hisses, hips twitching, shoving his cock deeper into Dave’s throat and the dirty muffled moan that vibrates up through his cock makes him see stars. “I-I wanted to get you off -”

Dave pulls off, voice and face wrecked, “Are you sure you’ll be able to?”

“What? You’re gonna make me pass out or somethin’ Dave?” Jason says. Dave merely shrugs, raising an eyebrow before diving back in, placing both of his hands on Jason’s hips as if to challenge him to make good on his word. It doesn’t take long after that, cock halfway down Dave’s throat, the image of him wrecked between his thighs, the newness of it, the desperation, and he makes a noise, tries to form words to say he’s about to come but Dave only holds on tighter, buries his face in Jason’s pubic hair, mouth relaxed around him, moaning as Jason can’t help but fuck deep and hold himself there, coming hard down Dave’s throat. He gags from it, throat convulsing around Jason, dragging everything out of him, and yet he stays still, breathes practiced around him, fingers pressed painfully into Jason’s hip bones. He twitches painfully against Dave’s tongue and he pulls out slowly, a drop of come still clinging to the tip that Dave catches with his tongue. He feels as wrecked as Dave looks and goddamn him, he collapses back against the bed.

“That -”

“Just happened, yes it did,” Dave says laughing. Jason feels the bed dip beside him and he rolls onto his side, blinking blurrily at Dave.

“You’re an ass, you know that man?” Jason drawls, dragging Dave in for a kiss. He can taste himself on Dave’s lips, his tongue, and it hits him low and warm. He’s just come down another man’s throat, ruined his male coworker’s fucking voice for the next day, had come because a guy had given him a blowjob. It’s utterly wild, his head swimming with it in the afterglow of his orgasm. He feels a rush of _something_ hit him hard and fast and he’s shaking, being pulled into Dave’s arms, pulled fully onto the bed, a pillow stuffed under his head. They fit together so strangely, Dave’s legs unnaturally long and curling around his even as Jason bumps his chin on Dave’s forehead. He doesn’t care, it feels good, warm, safe. Sweat is drying on his skin and he shivers, another layer of movement that Dave shushes, petting his arm.

“What’s up?” Dave asks, voice hoarse and Jason blushes, smashing his face into Dave’s cheek with embarrassment at what he’s done to his friend. Dave scratches the nape of his neck, laughing softly as he waits for Jason to collect himself. Jason merely noses closer, his beard catching in Dave’s mustache.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles into Dave’s cheek and Dave huffs, shushing him, pulling Jason away from his face to get a good look at him.

“For what?”

“I don’t know,” Jason mutters, forcing himself to meet Dave’s gaze. He sees a sweetness and acceptance, a knowing look and god, “was it like this for you?” he asks quietly. It seems so personal, like a line he possibly can’t cross but he’s loose and limp and frightened and relieved in a way that makes him even more foolish than usual.

“My first time with a guy?” Dave asks, pulling Jason back to him, adjusts them until Jason is laying his head on Dave’s chest, Dave’s hand in his hair, and he should feel like a dumbass being treated like this, like a weak pitiful thing, but he craves it more than he’s scared of it so he relents, rubs his cheek against Dave’s chest and sighs heavily as he relaxes. “I was 18, just ran away from home to be a star in Hollywood.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jason breathes.

“It was the late 70s, I was a dumbass.”

“Still are,” Jason says and gets Dave flicking his ear for the comment.

“I looked like the twinkiest motherfucker back then and acted like it,” Dave continued, “hanging out in wannabe actor circles with a bunch of other doped up young men, in the 70s, in _Los Angeles_ , meant, well, it had to happen eventually.” Jason tries not to laugh, imagining a bright eyed Dave stumbling around LA getting his Midwestern ass hit on by other men. “Sweet guy took mercy on me, showed me the ropes you could say.”

“And did you . . .” Jason trails off, he can’t imagine Dave got mushy his first time.

“No,” Dave says, “I didn’t really have the space to think about it, I had to roll with the punches back then. I also wasn’t in my forties. I was young and reckless and thought that the world was at my fingertips and after him, that included other men.”

Jason traces patterns into Dave’s skin, “And now?”

“I know the world is a lot less forgiving now but I’ve made it work I think,” Dave pauses, kissing Jason’s forehead, “I’m glad it could be me.”

“Not just for bragging rights?” Jason snorts.

“Maybe a little,” Dave says, smiling against him. “Want to give you the space to come to terms with it instead of running head first into a string of not so great hook-ups.”

“I feel foolish,” Jason murmurs.

“Why?”

“You were 18. I’m _old_. Why did it take me so long?”

“Women are amazing and homophobia exists?”

Jason laughs, pressing his face against Dave’s chest. “You know what man, that’s fair.”

“Also you’re not old, don’t say that shit around me,” Dave says, groaning dramatically.

“Not old at all,” Jason says, looking down to see Dave half hard against his thigh. He skates his fingers down over his hip to run his fingers along Dave’s cock.

“You don’t have to -” Dave cuts himself off with a whine as Jason takes him in hand. “You really don’t have to do this Jason, you’re -”

“I want to . . .” Jason says, relishing the feeling of someone else’s cock hardening in his hand. “Makes everything feel . . .” Dave moans in the back of his throat as Jason thumbs the head of his cock, “real.” He turns his head a touch to mouth at Dave’s nipple, remembering that had gotten him a good reaction when this had all started. It works. He’s grinning against Dave’s chest as Dave whimpers, arching into his hand. He can feel this is going to be quick, Dave already fucking into his fist, desperate to come. He flicks his tongue over the nub, getting his nipple hard before sucking hard, a hint of teeth, twisting his fist as Dave fucks up into it. Dave’s hand is grasping at his neck, holding onto Jason for dear life, moaning out nonsense. It can’t be that good, can it? But the way Dave’s hips are lifting off the bed, the ragged, wrecked noises he’s making say otherwise.

“I’m . . . oh . . . _fuck_ . . .” Dave trails off into a wordless shout, coming all over Jason’s hand and his stomach, one long stripe hitting Jason’s beard. He moans brokenly, feeling marked, dick twitching painfully against Dave’s thigh.

“Fuck, sorry,” Dave mumbles, hips still jerking through the aftershocks, reaching blindly to wipe away the come on Jason’s beard.

“No, I - I like it,” Jason says, glad that Dave only succeeds in smearing it into his hair. Dave’s cock slowly softens in his hand until Jason brings his come slick fingers up to his mouth, licking at them experimentally. He’s tasted his own come before, who hasn’t? But this is another level of _everything._

“Fuck,” Dave breathes, watching him as he pets Jason’s head weakly. Jason decides the hell with it and slides two of his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean, smiling at the choked noise Dave makes. It doesn’t taste bad or good, just intense, the symbolism more arousing than anything. He lets his fingers slip free with a pop before Dave is pulling him on top of him, urging Jason into a heated yet slow kiss. If Jason were a younger man he’d be getting hard again. Or at least _harder._ But all he can manage is a few weak twitches against Dave’s thigh as he tongue fucks his mouth. They peter out soon, the kisses sloppy and soft, more enjoying the feeling of closeness, intimacy than anything else. And it’s strange to be like this, Jason thinks. To be soft and sweet after fucking a man for the first time, his friend, _Dave._ But it’s natural for all the strangeness, natural to be pulled into the bathroom, the both of them sleepy and punch drunk with the afterglow and the ebbing away of adrenaline. Dave helps him clean his beard off before grabbing a washcloth and wiping his stomach off of both their come and precome as Jason takes an unselfconscious piss, too tired and loosey goosey to think about how that’s probably more intimate than the rest of it combined. He feels more alert once he brushes his teeth and realizes that Dave doesn’t have the same luxury.

“I’mma get you one,” he drawls around the toothbrush, stepping out of the bathroom to see Dave sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed naked except for his glasses on, peering blurrily at his phone.

“One what?” Dave asks, squinting at him over his glasses.

“Toofbruth,” Jason says before popping back into to rinse his mouth out. He comes over to the bed, realizing he’s naked, they’re both naked and just _talking_ but not particularly caring enough to do anything about it. “You can stay,” he says, sitting beside Dave and reaching for the hotel phone on the bedside table. He can feel Dave watching him but he shrugs it off and calls the front desk for an extra toothbrush, stumbling into a tshirt and sweatpants to go grab it.

“No pressure, man,” Jason says, hand on the door knob, “but I’d like it if you stayed.”

“All I needed to hear,” Dave says, smile suddenly splitting his face. Jason grins in return before slipping out and heading downstairs.

It’s a long elevator ride, the doors shiny enough to see himself in. He looks thoroughly fucked, his hair sticking up all over the place, his beard damp, face flushed, and he thinks there might be some nail marks in his scalp and neck from whatever Dave was doing. He lifts up his shirt for a moment, and yeah, his hips are already starting to bruise. The elevator dings and he quickly smooths his shirt back down, cursing himself. He knows the attendant has likely seen worse than an old man having his first, relatively chaste, gay experience.

He returns to the door, heart suddenly beating fast and hasn’t the hard part already been done? But opening the door feels too symbolic for his tastes, has him frozen fast. Why in the fuck did he ask Dave to stay over?

A muffled, “come in already you dumbass,” filters through the door and of course Dave heard him come down the hall, can see him blocking the light from coming through the bottom of the door. He grumbles to himself, unlocks the door and frowns heavily at Dave. He’s already cozy in bed, glasses perched on his nose.

“Don’t get too comfy,” he says shaking the toothbrush at Dave.

“Yessir,” Dave laughs, setting his glasses down and getting out of bed. He grabs the toothbrush from Jason, tugging him in for a quick kiss. Jason blinks, face flushed. He’s not sure what he’s gotten himself into or where it’s going, but he’s content with seeing where it takes him.

**Author's Note:**

> This was only supposed to be for me and my girlfriend's eyes only, as I feel weird posting RPF (hence this side account), but I'm too proud of this to keep to myself. This is only one of many FIF fics so like . . . I may post others . . .


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